


Stuck

by ClockworkSpades



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, superhero au, the worst possible way to do a secret identity reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClockworkSpades/pseuds/ClockworkSpades
Summary: Alfred has a secret identity. Arthur already knows.





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written on my tumblr for the prompt "How long have you been standing there?"/ "Long enough." but I enjoyed it so much I wanted to post it here.

Alfred had never intended to lead a double life. That was to say, his life had been a double life from the start, he’d just never expected to hide part of it so often so soon.

He’d been born just slightly… _better_. The result of gene experiments in the line of ‘designer babies’ that went just a little bit too far. So he was  _better_. Smarter, stronger, faster,  _better_. It had taken him (and his parents) a long time to figure out just how far the reaches of his super human capacities went, but to say the least, it was far further than anyone had expected.

That had been it. For a while, Alfred was just  _better_ , a fact that he had to hide from everyone else lest his abilities become the subject of investigation. Sure, that big brain of his helped out rather a lot in school and his subsequent work life. And yeah, maybe the strength came in handy too with small everyday things and his brief stint as a highschool sports star. But that was it. A normal life, but just  _better_.

But then other people like him had emerged from the woodwork. People who weren’t content with just being  _better_ , people who made it their mission to prove to the world how much  _better_ they were, people who thought that being  _better_ meant they should reach out and take anything they wanted as if it were some birthright.

Alfred had never wanted to be anything more than himself, but by virtue of his birth he supposed he never had an option to just be  _Alfred_. That was, if Alfred existed at all if you took the super human abilities away. But he couldn’t stand by. So he’d crawled his way out of the woodwork too, turning up wherever danger was. At first it was just to protect people, in his own clothes he’d secretly shield others and guide them away to safety as the police arrived on scene. Then he’d had to step in before a building could fall. Then there was the mask. The clothing. The arriving just in time to protect everyone and before he knew it he had a name plastered across the local paper proclaiming the city’s newest hero.

And  _that_ had been it. A double life no more realistically taxing than hiding his powers had been before. Only the necessity of keeping his identity a secret as his exploits brought him something of national fame, but that was practically the same as it had always been. No one at work knew who he was, and no one in the papers knew who  _Captain Remarkable_ really was, even if the entire city was dying to know. It was simple, easy, so easy to hide both sides of his life as if nothing had ever happened.

Until Arthur walked into his life.

Arthur, with his gorgeous face and quick-witted personality who had left Alfred a babbling mess the first time their paths had crossed. Arthur, who gave Alfred wry looks and yet blushed beautifully the first time Alfred found his voice. Arthur, who despite his best efforts Alfred had fallen madly, hopelessly in love with in no time at all.

He’d been wary of dating long before the whole superhero gig had happened, too afraid of getting too close and revealing his weird  _betterness_ to someone who might run and blag to the press. Of course, the superhero part had added a new complication of fame and danger, and suddenly dating had become an issue more out of fear of putting someone he loved in danger rather than one of being found out.

But Arthur had been so irresistibly  _everything_ that Alfred hadn’t been able to stop himself.

It had taken months. Months and months of flirting back and forth and avoiding dates before Arthur could ask and painful, longing looks before Alfred had allowed himself just  _one drink_ with Arthur. One drink. One drink that had turned to a dinner, which was followed by another dinner, and a lunch date, and a walk in the park, and countless other dates that had all blurred together until they’d moved into an apartment together and Alfred thought he could never have been happier.

But it was tough, hiding it all from Arthur. It had been difficult enough at first, having to cancel plans last minute, but then they lived together and Arthur saw him so much of the time that it was harder and harder to hide things. Not to mention the guilt. Every day that passed added another question of why he was hiding it from Arthur, why he couldn’t tell him the truth when he had to hear that disappointed tone over the phone when he cancelled another date or slipped in late.

But they were happy. And Alfred couldn’t help but think that there was nothing more he’d rather do after a long night of fighting crime than crawl back into bed with Arthur and hold him until the morning.

As was his plan that night, as he carefully slipped in the front door.

He’d long since gotten a proper costume, a strange encounter with another alleged superhero who had gotten him what he needed. He kept it stashed, along with a pair of jeans and a hoodie that he slipped on over it on his way home, mask shoved deep into the pocket.

He closed the door as quietly as he could behind himself, always afraid of waking Arthur up even more than he was afraid of being caught. He winced as he leaned away, hand instinctively going to his side. His ribs had to be just short of bruised, one not so uncommon injury he’d managed to hide from Arthur, but the rest of that side of his body had hit the ground so hard that getting home had been a pain of wincing and shuffling that made him long for the comfort of his bed and boyfriend.

But he couldn’t have those yet, limping his way as quietly as he could to the bathroom to clean up and undress.

He turned only the light of his phone on, always too afraid that the yellow light and the extractor fan of the bathroom would wake Arthur up and bring him barrelling in. Arthur was a heavy sleeper, Alfred knew in the back of his mind that his boyfriend wouldn’t get up for anything less than his alarm, but still he was concerned. Which left him to check his injuries with his piddly phone torch perched on the sink.

His hair was a mess, dirty with rubble still despite his best attempts to clear all the little bits out and sticking to his head in places where sweat and blood had caked it. He lifted a hand, sucking in a sharp breath as he touched the gash in his hairline where he’d been cut. It had stung at the time, but he’d been more concerned with blood in his vision than anything else. At least looking at it in the mirror assured him that it was nothing serious, but it was a difficult one to explain away from Arthur. Perhaps he could say that he hit his head getting a midnight snack.

He left the cut alone for now, instead carefully peeling off his hoodie. He bit his lip in his best attempt to keep quiet, but still a pained grunt escaped him as he twisted his shoulder, pain flaring up along his left side. He must’ve fallen harder than he thought, all the nerves in his side from his hip to his neck burning with pain. He clutched the edge of the sink, forgetting quiet through heavy breaths to work through the pain.

Eventually, it subsided, and he could look down at himself once again. His jeans, he was sure, would be more of an issue, but he could work his way down to that. Better to get the top half sorted first, deal with another flare of pain in removing his skin-tight top and clean up the cut. He took a deep breath, biting his lip and steeling his nerves for the pain as he reached for the bottom of his shirt.

As expected, the very first movement of his shoulder upwards shot him through like he was being thrown to the ground all over again. He grunted, but he persisted, caught between pulling it all off in a swift motion like a plaster or easing it up as this aching pace. He tried the former, and immediately had to pause to slam his head into the wall to resist screaming in pain. Slow movements it was then. He continued slowly, pausing every few seconds to breathe and let the pain subside before carrying on.

He got to his neck before he got stuck. With the shirt mostly over his head, it seemed that he couldn’t move his left arm without wanting to cry out in pain. But he couldn’t stop, he needed the clothes off, needed to clean up and hide them and finally,  _finally_  collapse into bed. He tried to wiggle it off, small movements that got the neckline slowly further up to his jaw, but reaching any further up had him biting his lip to muffle more shouts of pain. He tried more, shimmying his shoulders as best he could in a manoeuvre that probably would’ve looked ridiculous to any unfortunate lookers on, but it did nothing further than getting the shirt halfway up his face.

There wouldn’t be much more, he could practically taste the freedom, but his arms ached from reaching up for so long and his shoulder burned from the twist of being held up. He needed a hand. In any other situation he could’ve had Arthur’s help, but he couldn’t risk waking his boyfriend now, not when he was trying to pull himself out of his conspicuously labelled supersuit. He dithered, arms in the air and shirt caught between them, unable to see through the fabric of his shirt for any tool that may have aided his escape from spandex hell.

And then the light turned on.

Alfred froze, stilled from his best wiggling attempts with the sudden realisation that he was not alone in the room. He didn’t need to look to see who had turned the light on, but with his shirt caught halfway up his face as it was he was doubtful he would’ve been able to see regardless.

Dread should’ve flooded his system, fear and regret and worry at being caught red-handed in his supersuit by the person he’d been most afraid of finding out. But instead, he found his face flushing red, burning in embarrassment behind the spandex layer shielding him from his boyfriend’s judgemental gaze.

Of all the ways he’d thought of Arthur catching him in his suit; heroic and romantic moments of saving him from imminent danger and his mask being knocked off ending in a dramatic kiss, or slipping in at night to find Arthur waiting for him, or even Arthur simply finding the secret compartment in the bathroom that hid his suit. He had not thought the moment that Arthur found out about his double life would be in the bathroom at three am, tangled in spandex because of his injured shoulder.

Slowly, he turned around, a careful 180 he knew would have him facing the door despite the knowledge that he was not going to be able to look Arthur in the eye, regardless of his obscured vision. He couldn’t even lower his arms to see Arthur over his shirt, no way of reading his expression in the silence that was consuming them.

Alfred swallowed.

“H-how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

Arthur’s voice was rough with sleep, but even through that Alfred could hear the dry tone of unimpressed humour that Arthur possessed whenever he did something stupid.

“…Did you see-”

“You attempting to wiggle free from your shirt? Yes.”

“Ah.”

Silence fell again, the hum of the extractor fan ticking past the seconds as Alfred stood awkwardly in the middle of the bathroom, still stuck in the vice like grip of his traitorous supersuit. Alfred shifted, uncomfortable in more ways than one and trying his best to subtly wiggle out of the shirt. He was not successful.

“Does the incomparable Captain Remarkable need a hand getting out of his spandex?”

Alfred didn’t need to be able to see to know the raised eyebrow and bemused smirk that had plastered Arthur’s face. Just picturing it was enough to bring further redness to his cheeks.

“…Yes please.”

Arthur laughed, a short snort of laughter that ordinarily would’ve made Alfred’s aching muscles relax. But he was stressed from exhaustion and pain and all number of other things that went hand in hand with Arthur calling him by his superhero name for the first time ever in the most condescending tone possible. He heard Arthur’s footsteps before he felt the gentle hands on his sides, guiding him over to perch on the edge of the bath.

Carefully, Arthur eased the rest of the shirt off of his head, finally allowing Alfred’s aching arms to rest. He winced as he dropped his arm too fast, sucking in another sharp breath and clenching his teeth to keep from swearing at the pain. With his vision now unobscured, he could see that he was right about the smug expression on Arthur’s features, but he had only looked up in time to catch the end of it before it melted into a look of concern.

Arthur dropped the shirt behind him, the Captain Remarkable logo considerably less impressive crumpled up on the bathroom floor, but there were more pressing concerns.

“How badly are you hurt?” Arthur asked, cupping Alfred’s face and tilting his head to get a better look at the cut.

“I,” Alfred hesitated, still put out from his embarrassment and the shock of Arthur discovering his secret. And moreso then to see not a trace of similar shock on Arthur’s features. “Uh, it’s just muscle strain. I think. I got…I fell. There’s probably some bruises.”

Arthur hummed, turning away to fetch the first aid kit from the cabinet. Alfred watched him pull out cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, methodical movements that he imagined his veterinary boyfriend used every day at work.

There was so much more to say, more to ask, unspoken words hanging conspicuously around the elephant in the room. But Arthur seemed undistracted.

“This’ll sting.” He cupped Alfred’s face with one hand, and again Alfred found himself hissing in pain as the damp cotton wool grazed his face. “This is nasty, but not that deep. How’d you get it?”

“Didn’t dodge a bit of glass.” Alfred mumbled, surprised he was giving such easy answers as Arthur cleaned the cut. “…Ho-”

“I thought you healed fast.” Arthur hummed, pressing his thumb to Alfred’s forehead when he frowned in confusion.

“I- That part isn’t in the news.”

“I made a guess.” Arthur smiled, a hint of it in the corner of his mouth as he glanced away from his work to meet Alfred’s eye. “You just confirmed it.”

Despite himself, Alfred smiled back.

He may have idly imagined any number of scenarios revolving around the secret part of his life and how things would be if and when Arthur found out. But none of them gave Alfred so many reminders of how much he loved the man as the reality did. He stared up at him as Arthur cleaned his wound, taking note of how carefully, gently he took care of him, the endearing look of his concentration frown, the freckles and features of his face that he loved so dearly.

He’d expected much more. He’d expected a line of questions, anger, upset, confusion. He’d expected denial and arguments and disbelief when Arthur finally found out about his double life. He hadn’t expected him to look so calm and focus first on taking care of him. But then, he supposed, he should never have expected any less.

Gratefulness suddenly swept him, and as Arthur applied a bandage to his temple he lifted his arms to wrap them tight around his waist, never minding the sting in his shoulder as he flexed his muscles. Arthur’s hands stilled on his face, hesitant suddenly, but Alfred kept his eyes closed as he took a moment simply to hold his boyfriend. Slowly, he felt those hands sliding down to his shoulders, back into his hair, holding him closer and Alfred loosed a long breath.

“How long have you known?” He mumbled, face pressed into Arthur’s stomach.

Arthur sighed, carding his fingers slowly through Alfred’s knotted hair, picking small bits of debris that Alfred had missed out as he went.

“I was sure about a month ago, but I was suspicious before we moved in together. The timing every time you had to cancel, the unexplained injuries, the colour of Captain Remarkable’s hair.” He laughed a little, and Alfred did too. “I thought it just had to be coincidence. But then we moved and you’d be missing sometimes and I’d ask how your day was and you’d stumble halfway through as if you realised you were about to say something you shouldn’t. I didn’t…I didn’t believe it at first. Didn’t want to. Actually I didn’t fully believe it until now. But I caught you, you remember? I was home earlier than you thought and you were vacuuming, lifting up the sofa like it was nothing.”

Alfred bit his lip, wheezing out another laugh with Arthur.

“I thought I put it down before you noticed.”

Arthur sighed, gently untangling a knot of hair.

“You didn’t. But I convinced myself you had just lifted up one side for a while. It was just hard to deny, and now this. Though admittedly I didn’t think I’d be catching you like that. I was expecting to see Captain Remarkable in all his post-battle glory.” Another sigh, and Arthur’s grip tightened subtly in his hair.

Alfred pulled back slowly, just enough to look up into Arthur’s eyes. Arthur looked down at him, and Alfred was shocked to find the worry there in his boyfriend’s gaze.

“Why didn’t you want to believe it?” He found himself asking, squeezing him tighter as Arthur bit his lip.

“…I was scared.” He breathed eventually, hands coming around to cup Alfred’s face. “I’ve read reports and seen clips for years now, and every time I wondered how  _Captain Remarkable_ managed to get out of those situations alive, how he managed to save us every time. It worried,  _worries_  me sometimes that maybe, just maybe one day there’ll be a situation that’s too much. One day someone bad will try to take over and they’ll succeed this time because our  _hero_ ,” he cringed over the word, Alfred had always known Arthur hated to call the ‘supers’ that, “didn’t make it out alive. And if was you, not some other man somewhere else in the city, if it really was you,” he paused to take breath, a weak smile taking over his face, “then I’d have to worry even more that I’d wake up one day and you wouldn’t have climbed back in through the window.”

Alfred swallowed, the weight of Arthur’s words resting heavy on his chest.

Of all the things he’d been concerned with, afraid of, everything he’d ever turned over and over in his mind from the moment he met Arthur, he’d never thought that Arthur would be the one to worry about his safety. He stared back at him, lost in that pained expression as Arthur rubbed a thumb over his cheek.

“I,” he began, glancing away in search of answers. “I don’t come in through the window.”

Arthur laughed, a watery sound to it that had Alfred hugging him tighter.

“I know.” Arthur sighed, moving slowly to sit himself on Alfred’s good leg. “But you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Alfred replied, holding Arthur ever the closer, “I just…I never expected that you’d be the one worrying, you know? I was always so worried about someone hurting you because of me I didn’t think…I didn’t think when I told you that me putting myself in danger would be a factor.”

Arthur snorted.

“Of course you didn’t. You’re so preoccupied with looking after everyone else you never even consider what you’re actually doing when you put yourself in danger.”

Alfred opened his mouth to argue, but Arthur was right. He didn’t consider. He’d long since stopped thinking about how dangerous each scenario really was before he’d even met Arthur. He closed his mouth, no reply forthcoming as he looked back at Arthur.

“Is that why it took so long?” Arthur continued instead, “To go on a date with me, I mean. You were worried?”

Alfred smiled, weakly.

“Yeah. But you were so damn… _you_  that I’d already started falling for you before we got that drink.”

Arthur laughed, leaning forward to rest his head on Alfred’s shoulder momentarily. Alfred turned his head, taking the chance to kiss Arthur’s forehead and smiling at the pleased hum it emitted from Arthur.

“I suppose now I also don’t have to pretend that Captain Remarkable isn’t dead sexy.”

It was Alfred’s turn to laugh, tipping his head back with a loud bark of laughter that quickly turned to a wince at the strain his neck took. Arthur stood quickly, cupping his face once again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Alfred reassured, though it did nothing for the concern on Arthur’s face. “Just bruises.”

Arthur didn’t look convinced, but he stepped back regardless, picking up the crumpled shirt on the bathroom floor.

“Well then,  _Captain Remarkable_ , if it is just bruises we better get you to bed so you can sleep them off.”

Alfred watched as Arthur dumped his shirt in the laundry hamper as if it were any other normal piece of laundry. His side hurt, his head throbbed with a growing exhaustion headache, and yet he found himself still staring at Arthur with dozens more unanswered questions and unspoken answers.

“But- Don’t you have questions?” He frowned, eyes still on Arthur as he moved closer again.

“Only about a million. But it’s late, and you’re injured. You can answer all my questions tomorrow, okay?”

Alfred stared, still not quite comprehending the gravity of the situation. But Arthur was smiling at him, and every fibre of his body ached for sleep. He could find no reason to press questions they were both too tired to deal with when he would rather climb into bed and hold his boyfriend.

Arthur helped him out of his jeans and remaining spandex, tossing all into the laundry hamper with only a brief question of whose blood was on the knee. And when Alfred stood, wobbly and weak, he took the excuse to wrap his arms around Arthur again and pull him close.

“Isn’t the hero supposed to get a kiss?” He grinned, half talking around a yawn that made his attempt at flirting dramatically less charming. But Arthur smiled his wry smile right back.

“I think you’re supposed to do something impressive like rescue me from a burning building before I kiss you.”

Alfred laughed, a low chuckle that had him shaking his head as Arthur leaned up on his tiptoes.

“I love you so insanely much.”

“I love you too.” Arthur leaned up, letting Alfred’s aching shoulders rest without leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Alfred smiled against his lips, and wider still when Arthur pulled back again. “Next time I expect to see you in the whole outfit.”

“Oh?” Despite his aching muscles, Alfred pulled Arthur up into his arms, grinning against the gasps of laughter and protest and concern about his injuries as he shuffled back towards the bedroom. “You want a date with Captain Remarkable, do you?”

Arthur fixed him with that same wry gaze, half an objection still likely on his lips, ready to chastise him for straining his muscles further with unnecessary lifting. But he rolled his eyes instead, cupping his face in the darkness of their bedroom.

“I want a date with  _Alfred Jones_. Every part of him.”

They fell onto the bed in the heat of another kiss, interrupted once again with a wince for Alfred’s injuries. But Arthur kissed away the pain, pressing soft, teasing kisses over his shoulder and the bandage on his head. There were many scenarios in which Arthur could have discovered the double life Alfred lead, many scenarios in which his reaction was entirely different. But looking at Arthur then, smiling back at him and telling him to  _sleep, love, please_ , he had to think that perhaps at home, he needn’t have a double life at all.


End file.
